The Hidden Horror Beneath the Big Cypress Swamp
by Necronomiconiac
Summary: Randolph Carter has just escaped his traumatic experience at the Big Cypress Swamp, though his friend Harley Warren has been killed. Despite his fears, Carter is drawn back to the gateway to the underworld. Will Carter's curiosity get the best of him or will he be able to resists its pull?


**The Hidden Horror Beneath the Big Cypress Swamp**

AN: This is an assignment for my writing class. It is a continuation of _The Statement of Randolph Carter._

_Italicized text is from canon._

_"You fool, Warren is DEAD!"_

As soon as the demonic and bestial voice had finished its horrifying utterance, my fear, which had spent the last several minutes of my final, despairing conversation with Warren in a state of suspended animation waiting in vain to hear of my friend's hopeful escape, spread from my chest to my head and from there, spread like a cold sensation through my veins, filling me with a terrified despairing sensation that I had never experienced before. I was paralyzed by my fear. My legs gave out, and I collapsed on the floor of the tomb. Suddenly the blackness closed in, and I knew no more.

I woke up the next day to the muted yet familiar smell of sterilized linens. After my disorientation dissipated, I realized that I had been taken to the local hospital. From Warren's research into the entrance to the netherworld, we had discovered that the areas surrounding the entrances were feared by local peoples, and were feared and avoided.

A mild sense of comfort filled me as I realized that whatever entity had taken my friend from this mortal realm had not escaped its netherworld lair. Its words haunted my thoughts, resonating in my mind like a bell. Shortly after my awakening, a nurse entered my room to tell me that the sheriff had asked for me.

Soon after, a stout, short man entered the room. He had a worried look on his face. I could tell that whatever he wanted to discuss with me was done with great reluctance and anxiety. He stuttered through a short introduction, his name being Alan Graham. He had said he had found me after he had received reports from some of the local people near the graveyard, that two grave robbers had been trespassing onto the forbidden lands. He had found me unconscious in the tomb, but had not seen or heard anything. He was obviously spooked by the dilapidated structures in the swamp and had taken me to the hospital. He asked me of what happened to the man that witnesses saw me enter the swamp with.

I was filled with an inhumane dread at the thought of telling the oblivious detective of my experience in the graveyard. However, I braved through my fear, though had to take several pauses to avoid becoming overcome with fear and passing out again. By the time, I had finished, Graham had begun sobbing uncontrollably, He had started shaking as big, wet tears dropped down his face. Though I don't understand why, he had believed my tale. Graham told me that I could leave, as long as I didn't go back to the graveyard. I agreed, heaving no desire to return the horror that had taken Warren from this life.

The next four months of my life were haunted by nightmares of the disembodied voice talking to me through the grave. Though I attempted to forget that night, my mind would always take me back to the graveyard. While my mind was filled with immense terror of what I had observed, I was so curious as to what Warren had unearthed in that hidden necropolis. The thoughts of the latter slowly consumed my thoughts, and I was unable to function in society. I was resolved to find out what Warren had unearthed. However, I was aware of the danger I faced, and decided I would go back by myself. If I died, I would take the knowledge of the location of the portal to the underworld with me.

I returned the following autumn, having read up on the lore that Warren had kept hidden me, from my own protection. The tomes he had uncovered told tales of the monstrous demons that could travel between the underworld and the surface one. The tomes were mostly undecipherable to me, as my linguistic ability was not strong enough to decipher the archaic texts. However, I was able to make out the basic information, though none of the stories told me of a way to prevent being killed or how to hide myself from the undead beings.

Despite the bleakness of my remaining mortality, my curiosity of the hidden world that only a few mortals had ever seen grew stronger and stronger, dominating my thoughts. I knew I had to return, even though I would likely die.

When I returned to the cemetery, I was unsurprised that everything had remained completely the same. The equipment Warren and I had brought had remained untouched, the telephone wire still being in place. My mind quickly focused on Warren, would I discover his remains, if the demons had even left his body? I removed the black slab covering the entrance, though it too much longer than when I had Warren helping me. Nevertheless, I was able to move the stone. However, I was only able to budge it so that it would eventually close on the doorway, trapping me inside.

Though I knew my life would be lost, my curiosity had taken over me, and I knew that until I had seen what horrors or wonder were hidden beneath the tomb, I could not find peace. So, I set off into the darkness. These are the final thoughts I have before I leave this world. To whoever discovers this note next to this other worldly gateway, the horrors beneath this tomb have consumed my life, and for your sake, I pray that you do not become entrapped into its ethereal mystique as I have. Run, you fool, run, before you are trapped in spirit and in body as I am! Run, before the obsession takes over your every waking thought! Leave!

- Randolph Carter


End file.
